Normality in Perception
by Valieara
Summary: PostBeachhead. Vala's gone, the lights are still on in Jackson's lab, and Mitchell strolls the halls. As much as they don't want to admit it, they miss her. Not romance.


_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Stargate SG-1 or anything affiliated with it, nor am I making any monetary gain off this snippet of a story._

_**Spoilers/Timeframe:** Post-_Beachhead

_**Notes:** My attempt at keeping the characters close to what in-character would mean for this episode, while still showing a little bit of something over the fact that Vala's gone. As far as _Beachhead _went, that never sat right with me. Enjoy._

* * *

Colonel Mitchell walked through the hallways with a bounce to his step that was unusual for the late hour, and for that matter, the general mood of the past week. The normality of the base, or what passed for it, was only just beginning to come back after the brief respite of a few weeks only a few days ago. Craziness abounded at the SGC ever since he'd first come, and he supposed that was due to the huge shift in ranking officers and newbies on base. What was one more, if a little more... unconventional, after that? Dynamics had changed, and fluctuated, and forced everything – and he did mean _everything_ - to conform around them. 

A little ironic, Mitchell conceded, that things had just been starting to settle into a new type of "normal"... or whatever... when they all had to change again.

The door to Jackson's lab was still open, and those damn lights you couldn't see anything with were faintly visible even against the bright florescent lights overhead. He slowed down to lean against the doorjamb for a minute.

Jackson was staring at some of his notes, pen in hand. Mitchell recognized that look – he himself had it way too often dealing with paperwork. It was that blank stare. The one where you're trying to focus, but you can't and don't really want to, and truthfully don't even realize it.

Yeah, that was the look on Jackson's face, alright.

Mitchell sighed. What he wouldn't give for a little game of basketball right now.

He looked around for the source of the low droning, and saw a tape player in the back corner. He threw a glance at Jackson and decided he wouldn't notice if he surreptitiously strolled inside.

Deliberately, Mitchell pressed down the "Stop" button. Jackson's head whipped up.

"Mitchell," he said in shock. "What... when did you get here?"

"You know, the look on your face is great, I wish you could see it," he tried to joke. Jackson only gave him a look, and he relented. Mitchell gestured to the tape player. "See you've developed a taste for books on tape. Or is that not a new thing?"

"The radio doesn't work this far below ground, and I need the background noise to work," Jackson explained distractedly.

Mitchell paused. "You didn't used to need it." Jackson threw him a questioning glance. Mitchell only shrugged. "Sam told me," he admitted.

Jackson sighed, and Mitchell couldn't help wondering how long this was going to last.

"You know it's only been a week, right?" Mitchell said quietly. Jackson rested his head in his hands in response. "You're allowed some time to adjust, what with all that... magical crap you had done to you."

"It's just the radio," Jackson defended himself.

"Tape player," Mitchell corrected.

"Whatever," Jackson snapped impatiently. "A lot of people have background noise while they're working. It's not like I'm having a breakdown or anything."

"Are you?" Mitchell asked after a pause, eyebrows raised.

"No," was the firm response. "I had to get used to someone flipping pages and humming and asking ridiculous questions constantly while I worked over the last few months, now I have to get used to that noise not being there. I hardly think that qualifies as a breakdown. More like a habit I need to break."

"The tape player?" Mitchell questioned, eyebrow raised. He didn't get an answer, and he hesitated before he spoke again.

"We're all missing her, Jackson, as much as we don't admit it."

"Yeah, kinda hard to, isn't it?" Jackson said sardonically. It was a double edged retort, but Mitchell let it slide without comment, knowing exactly what Jackson meant.

"It kinda is," Mitchell agreed softly, and let his gaze drift. "Hope she's makin' good out there with the Ori. Maybe she'll do more good out there than she thought she could here." His eyes fell on Jackson again, who hadn't moved or responded.

Jackson looked up when Mitchell clapped a hand to his shoulder. "We're down a person in the fight, but we do need you out there fighting the Ori with us. Take care of yourself. You're a good man, Jackson."

He looked up, almost in surprise, only nodding in sincere thanks.

Mitchell gave a quick nod back, before he strode out the door. "And good luck with that tape player."

Back in his lab, Daniel sighed and shut it off in frustration.


End file.
